Disclaimer: All still apply.

SOMETHING TO PROVE

(PART FIVE)

"I can't believe you're taking his side in this."

"Jess, it's not a case of taking sides," Mark explained, trying to calm his young friend down. He had taken the news that he was to be suspended very badly indeed. "But Eric Flynn is threatening to sue the hospital and we have to take that threat seriously."

"But it's all lies." Jesse gestured towards the papers that were now scattered on the table. "She's delusional. I didn't do any of those things."

"I know you didn't and the investigation will clear you."

"But there shouldn't even be an investigation." The distressed young man got up and began to pace. "Why can't you just believe me?"

"I do believe you," Mark tried to assure him. "But isn't it better that we get this cleared up internally, rather than let Flynn drag it through the courts?"

Jesse just shook his head, continuing to pace. He honestly couldn't understand why he was being put through this. Surely his word was good enough. But, obviously, it wasn't. Some people actually believed that he was capable of getting involved with a fourteen-year-old patient. It felt like betrayal.

"Jesse, please. Just go home," Mark tried to reason with him. "You're finished for the day anyway and I'll call you tomorrow to let you know what's happening."

"But what about my shift tomorrow?" Jesse's voice was plaintive.

"I'm sorry, Jesse."

The young doctor sighed, then ran his hands through his already unruly hair. The knowledge that this was really happening to him was just starting to sink in.

"I don't believe it," he whispered.

"Get some sleep," Mark advised him. "It's going to be okay."

"That's easy for you to say," Jesse snapped back, his disbelief being rapidly replaced by anger. "You're not the one who's just been suspended, because your colleagues are prepared to take the word of a schoolgirl above yours."

"Jesse..."

"Just forget it, Mark."

With that, Jesse stormed out of the lounge, slamming the door behind him.

*****

Jesse was still angry as he drove towards home that evening, his mood worsening the more he thought about what had happened. He simply couldn't accept that he had been suspended because of Melissa's lies. By the time he neared his apartment he was, quite simply, furious.

Coming to a sudden decision, he didn't park in his usual spot, but carried on driving, straight past the building. He was angry, he was upset and he needed a drink.

If he had been thinking more rationally, Jesse would have realised that alcohol was not going to solve his problems. If anything, it would only add to them, but the young doctor wasn't exactly in the most rational frame of mind.

Pulling up at the first bar he came to, he went inside and ordered a beer, followed by a whiskey chaser. Once that was gone, he ordered the same again.

What the Hell, he thought to himself as he downed the second whiskey. It's not like I've got to get up for work tomorrow.

So Jesse proceeded to drown his sorrows. He wasn't normally much of a drinker and the alcohol went straight to his head. He knew that he'd had too much when he got up to go to the bathroom and the room tilted alarmingly.

"Oops," he muttered, catching hold of the edge of the bar just in time to prevent himself from falling over. "Time to go home."

"I hope you're not planning on driving, sir," the bartender said, having overheard him.

Jesse squinted back at him, trying to work out which of the two barmen he could see had spoken.

"No, I only live a block away and it's a nice night for a walk."

He headed for the bathroom, bouncing off one of the walls on the way, then headed out through the back door. It had turned quite chilly while he'd been inside and he looked longingly towards his car. It would take him ten minutes to walk home.

"Oh, what?" Jesse looked accusingly up at the sky as the first drops of rain started to fall. "No. What else can go wrong?"

*****

"Jesse's not answering his phone, "Mark told Steve, a trace of concern in his voice. He was holding the phone to his ear, as he spoke. "He should be home by now."

"Maybe he's just gone off somewhere quiet, to think," his son answered. "You know what Jesse's like."

Mark nodded distractedly, but was obviously not convinced. He was worried about his young friend. Jesse had been so upset when he'd left that Mark had tried to call him the moment he'd had time to make it home. Since then, two hours had passed and there was still no answer to his repeated calls.

Eventually, after letting the phone ring almost two dozen times, he was forced to concede that there was going to be no response this time either and hung up.

"So what exactly do we know about Eric and Melissa Flynn?"

Steve had used his connections at work to run a background check on Jesse's accusers, but nothing useful had come from it

They had move to LA from Delaware just over a year ago. They had never been in trouble with the law and there didn't seem to be any hidden secrets in their past. Steve had also made enquiries with the police in their home town, but with the same fruitless results.

Mark's other concern was Melissa's bruises. Could they just be coincidental? A fall, an argument with some school-friends. Mark supposed that it was possible, but he seriously doubted it. Somebody had been hurting that little girl and they were still no closer to finding out who.

"Why don't we go home, dad?" Steve's voice cut through his musings. "You can try calling Jesse again later, when he's had time to calm down."

*****

Jesse slid behind the wheel of his car and carefully fastened his seatbelt. The rain was coming down in earnest and, his mind fogged by alcohol, had decided that he wasn't all that drunk and was, in fact, okay to drive.

He moved slowly and with exaggerated care. If he just took his time, he'd be fine. After all, it was only a few minutes drive to his apartment. The roads were quiet and he wouldn't have to worry about fetching his car in the morning.

Jesse successfully manoeuvred out of the car park and his confidence began to grow. He was a good driver at the best of times so, he figured, if he just did what he always did, then he'd be fine.

The problem was that his judgement wasn't exactly up to scratch. His vision kept blurring and the road kept splitting into two. It was becoming increasingly difficult to keep going in a straight line.

Jesse's solution to that was to simply slow down and not to try anything too complicated, like changing lanes. So he proceeded at a crawl, ignoring the other traffic and focussing only on getting home.

Just as he was nearing his goal, he heard a siren behind him. Glancing in the rear-view mirror, he saw flashing lights. Silently congratulating himself for being a conscientious driver, he carefully indicated and pulled over as far as he could, to make way for the emergency vehicle.

He misjudged the distance completely. The Mustang's front wheel rode up onto the kerb and Jesse managed to brake just in time to avoid colliding with a mail-box.

It was only then that he realised that no emergency vehicle had gone racing past him. The lights were still flashing in his mirrors and he saw, with horror, that a police car had pulled up behind him.

"Uh oh," he muttered.

Mark was going to kill him, he realised with sudden dismay. He was the subject of an internal investigation and the first thing he'd done was to get himself arrested. He couldn't allow his mentor to find out about this, he would be furious.

More concerned about Mark's reaction than the consequences of his actions, Jesse pushed open the car door and stumbled out into the rain. Seeing a cop approaching him, with one hand on his gun, Jesse panicked completely and began to run.

He'd barely gone a dozen strides before he was tackled from behind and brought crashing down onto the sidewalk. A firm knee planted on his back prevented him from struggling, as his arms were pulled roughly behind him and then secured with handcuffs.

TO BE CONTINUED...